


conserve water, shower together

by alphaesque



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Awkward Flirting, Camp 100, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-12
Updated: 2014-12-12
Packaged: 2018-03-01 03:05:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2757206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alphaesque/pseuds/alphaesque
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Hey Miller? Have you seen Monty?”</p><p>Miller’s gaze casts upwards for a moment before a dangerous glint flashes in his irises, his eyes crinkling in silent mirth. “Yeah, Jasper, he’s actually in the shower with me right now.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	conserve water, shower together

**Author's Note:**

> [awkward flirting is now 100% canon thanks to 2x07]
> 
> here I am, once again, writing fic for two characters who have interacted for a total of maybe five minutes. rarepair or bust
> 
> also, shoutout to rita because i've dragged her onto this ship with me (˘ ³˘)♥

Monty figures his plan is either going to go smoothly, or crash into flames, but he’s got no time to analyze it any further and the hand that’s been hovering over the metal door moves, the sound of his knocks echoing around the room.

Miller internally curses and rinses the soap from his eyes, vowing to murder whoever it is outside the door that’s interrupting the fifteen blissful minutes he gets to himself in the shower. “What?”

“Hey, Miller? Its Monty.”

Knocking his punishment down from murder to a painful punch in the arm, Miller peeks his head out from the makeshift curtain in order to hear Monty better. “Everything okay?”

“Uh, yeah, I was just wondering if I can get in there for a minute?” When Miller doesn’t respond, Monty shifts awkwardly, “I need to shave really fast before I meet Raven to go scavenging for parts.”

“You need to shave? I didn’t even know you could grow facial hair.”

“Ha ha, very funny.” Miller’s laughter is muffed through the metal door but the sound of it has Monty rolling his eyes in an amused sense of exasperation rather than actual annoyance.

Deciding that there’s no harm in Monty coming in to shave and then leave, Miller ducks back under the hot spray. “Sure, come on in.”

Pushing open the door to the small bathroom area the remaining hundred had fashioned for themselves— the girls bathroom was situated on the other side, barricaded by heavy doors and dangerous looking equipment thanks to Raven—Monty strides in and settles his bag on the counter, digging around for the makeshift razor Wells had made.

The air is slightly suffocating, overly thick due to the steam coming from the shower, and Monty regrets wearing a long sleeved shirt even though outside its as cold as its ever been since they’ve landed on Earth. “Thanks. I thought I could get in here earlier but Bellamy was in here and I’ve learned the hard way not to bother him while he’s showering.”

Miller hums from behind the curtain, hands massaging an earthy smelling shampoo into his scalp. “I’m sure your stubble doesn’t even look that bad.”

“Not all of us can pull of facial hair like you can,” a beat of silence overtakes the room causing Monty to flush slightly—  _nice one, Monty, real smooth_ — as he wipes the condensation off of the mirror to the best of his ability.  “Mine looks less like facial hair and more like a sick joke someone has drawn on my face.”

Struggling not to get soap in his eyes from his abrupt laughter, Miller leans back under the spray. “Doubtful.”

“When I first starting growing stubble, my dad laughed. Honestly, what father laughs at the sight of his son’s stubble?” Lathering a bit of soap up on his hands, he gets to work while Miller’s laughter fills the bathroom. 

A comfortable silence overtakes the room and Monty’s almost finished when a rapid knock on the door has him jerking backwards, barely avoiding taking a chunk of his lip off. 

“Monty? Dude, you in there?”

“Wrong person,” Miller sing-songs back in response, hoping that’ll be in the end of it.

Of course it’s not, he could never get so lucky, and the door handle turns prompting Monty to move quickly, not giving much thought to just what exactly he’s doing, and he pushes back the curtain of the shower to clamber in next to Miller.

Miller blinks in shock, lips quirking upward in curiosity but before he can give any opinion on the matter the sound of the door opening and Jasper’s voice filling the room has his comment dying in the back of his throat.

“Hey Miller? Have you seen Monty?”

Miller’s gaze casts upwards for a moment before a dangerous glint flashes in his irises, his eyes crinkling in silent mirth. “Yeah, Jasper, he’s actually in the shower with me right now.”

Monty glowers at him but remains silent. All he can think about is the water seeping into his shoes and the way Miller looks standing under the spray. The circuits of his brain are frying a little, but all in all, its enough to keep him from giving away his position to Jasper by doing something embarrassing.

“You’re hilarious,” Jasper’s dry tone indicates just exactly how he feels about Miller’s sense of humor before he pushes on. “So you haven’t seen him?”

“ _Jasper_ —”

“Listen, if you see Monty will you tell him I’m looking for him?”

Miller flashes Monty a shit-eating smirk, “Sure thing.”

“Cool.” There’s a beat of silence before the door closes and Monty’s lungs painfully release the air he had been unconsciously holding in. 

“Hey Monty, Jasper’s looking for you.” Laughing loudly, Miller backs up when Monty’s eyes narrow in promise of pain. “No, but seriously, any reason why you’re avoiding Jasper?”

Struggling to keep his eyes trained on Miller’s, Monty hopes Miller will just chalk the flush rising on his neck as a reaction to the heat rather than their close proximity. “Jasper’s my best friend,” at this Miller shoots him a raised eyebrow look that reads:  _duh_ , “and I love him,” another  _duh_  look, “and Maya makes him happy, which is great! I want him to be happy, of course. But instead of just summarizing about how great everything is going between the two of them, he goes into play-by-plays of everything they’ve done. Which doesn’t sound as bad until you’ve listened to him describe how Maya’s tongue caresses his own with  _love_.” 

Miller balks then, eyes growing wide with horror. 

“I want him to be happy and I want him to enjoy it, I just don’t want to hear about every little bit of his happiness.”

Nodding in understanding, he shoots Monty what he hopes to be an understanding smile— not that he, himself, has any sort of history with best friends indulging too much information, if anything Bellamy’s the best friend he’s ever had (Gods help him) and it’s not like they’ve been given a prime opportunity to sit down for a bear-all session recently. “Sounds reasonable enough to me.”

Monty’s eyes flicker away from Miller’s face for a just a moment, taking in the sight of Miller’s bare chest covered in water, before he clears his throat and begins to back up. “Yeah,” he awkwardly drags out the vowels, feet moving on their own accord back out of the shower where Miller is staring at him with a peculiar expression. “I’m almost done and then I’ll just…be going.”

The curtain falls, covering Miller’s reaction and Monty lets out a long breath through his teeth when he gets an easy-going, “Alright” in response.

Monty manages to finishing shaving without interruptions and he’s only seconds from making his escape out of the bathroom when a loud, brisk knock has him fleeing back behind the shower curtain, forcing him chest-to-chest with Miller. “Uh.” A little voice tells him: _first time's an accident, second time’s a coincidence, what happens when you reach number three?_  which he ignores because this is  _not_  a pattern, its completely justified.

_Really_.

“Miller, are you almost done in there?” Bellamy sounds more agitated than usual, which both Monty and Miller chalk up to the cold because apparently Bellamy is not a winter person in the slightest, prompting Miller to shake his head.

“Yeah, Bel, I’ll be just a few more minutes.”

“You’re taking almost as long as Wells does in the shower.”

Off in the muffled distance an indignant,  _“I don’t take that long!”_ makes its way through the metal door.

“Wells, at least half of the camp could shower in the amount of time you take. Why do you think we have you on a timer now?”

Whatever Wells’ responds with is distorted by the door, there’s a break of silence before Bellamy’s voice snaps tinnily through the metal, fading halfway through his retort. 

Unsure on whether or not its safe to step back out, Monty attempts to put some space back between himself and Miller, somehow managing to knock over one of Miller’s shower bottles in the process—  _because, honestly hasn’t he suffered enough?_

At the sound of the noise, Bellamy opens the door and sticks his head in. “You okay?”

“My shampoo just fell, jeeze,  _Mom_.”

“You know what?—” Bellamy doesn’t finish his sentence, just shuts the door with a slight clang behind him. “Be ready in five or I’m pulling you out myself!”

Chucking mostly to himself at the image of Bellamy trying to pull him out of the shower, Miller blindly reaches for the fallen bottles only to collide with Monty, who had been lost in an internal battle of whether or not he really needs to look down to find the bottles, because, hey, the ceiling is really interesting and it’s not like they could have gone far. “Ow.”

“Shit, sorry.” Monty—  _honest to whatever God is out there—_ had tried his best to keep his gaze on Miller but everything goes from slightly awkward to to hell in a handbasket at the sight of Miller’s shoulders and the tone expanse of his arms that had been normally hidden behind long-sleeved shirts and a torn-up jackets. “I—”

Miller raises a brow at the flush burning at Monty’s ears, curling its way up his neck and into his cheeks and steps backwards to give him a little space. “Are you okay?”

“I should—” There are no words, Monty thinks, eyes flickering downwards for just a second and—  _holy fuck_. “—go.”

Suppressing the endeared laugh that’s bubbling inside of his chest, Miller reaches forwards to knock at Monty’s shoulder, “You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good; great even. I just told Raven I would meet her and I’m probably late so I should…” His eyes cast downwards for a second longer before he clears his throat and disappears out of the curtain, sweeping one arm out to push all of his stuff inside of his rucksack. He almost bolts out the door before his pauses, his heartbeat hammering loudly in his ears, throat dry as he tries to muster out a coherent sentence. “Thanks again.”

“No problem. I’ll see you later.”

Pushing open the door, Monty takes a moment to suck in the air before gathering his wits back about him. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

Waiting until he was sure the door was shut, Miller steps out of the shower with a small smile twisting at the corners of his lips. Running a hand through his hair, he shakes off some of the excess water and reaches for the towel he had left on the counter, only to come up empty handed.

“Well, shit.”


End file.
